


Armed Regardless

by musicforswimming



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Losers
Genre: Character of Color, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Female Character of Color, Female Characters, Female Protagonist, Femslash, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicforswimming/pseuds/musicforswimming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aisha meets a girl on vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armed Regardless

**Author's Note:**

> Off [zillah975](http://zillah975.dreamwidth.org)'s prompt "Aisha, liquid". Many props to her for saying nice things when I warned her that she might get Buffy/Aisha out of the deal.

Aisha is not one to trust to chance. Instinct, while occasionally handy, is much more often an excuse to get sloppy and do whatever one wants to do, and she will not rely on that excuse. But she's on vacation now, not for work -- or revenge, or a vendetta, or anything else. She is here to relax, and there is something about this woman who catches her eye, in the bar, over something clear, with a wedge of lime drowning in it and the glass sweating under the combined weight of drink and air.

The name she gives is Buffy, and it rings a bell somewhere in Aisha's mind, but -- she's here for fun, not for work.

They gravitate to each other, and when Buffy's hand on Aisha's neck finds the gun, it is at nearly the same moment that Aisha's hand on her hip finds a knife. They pause, both of them, and that's how Aisha knows that they're thinking the same thing, calculating, wondering -- it stretches through the heady air of the evening like heat lightning, and it's the other who breaks it first, her hand tracing a ticklish line down Aisha's spine as she deepens the kiss.

She's here for fun, and oh, yes, it's fun -- Buffy breaks from her and Aisha gives chase, and they find each other on top of a three-story hotel eight blocks away. This time amidst the fevered, sweat-damp kisses, Aisha gets a hand under her shirt and tweaks a nipple under the swimsuit she finds there, then darts away in her turn, and so they chase each other through town and down to the soft sand of the beach.

Guns and knives on the shore while they're swimming, but oh, Aisha knows this girl to be a woman like herself, a woman who's never, ever, _ever_ unarmed.

Really, too, who is she kidding, "swimming"; they've barely done any of that since they stripped down to their bikinis and raced each other into the foamy waves. The sea is blood-warm and swelling around them, and the sand under their feet feels firm as stone one moment and slips away the next. Their arms about each other, it hardly matters; they keep each other afloat when the tide pulls the sand out from under them and they bob like corks as they breathe and kiss and breathe again.

It's dangerous, this -- leaving aside the possibility of a riptide there's the fact that the both of them have been drinking, that there's no one out there to hear if something goes wrong and they start screaming for help, and even fewer people to care. But neither of them gives a damn; at least, Aisha knows that she doesn't, because she can take care of herself and because of the way the moon and water silver them both.

"You know," Buffy says, between kisses, "I told my team this mission wasn't gonna be a day at the beach -- until we hit the vacation part of it, when it _would_ be a day at the beach -- but check it out, 'cuz that's definitely starlight -- "

Aisha laughs, says "I think you're telling me more than you meant to," because she's feeling generous, and Buffy just smirks and they go back to kissing, hungry for each other after only the few moments that they've paused for. Buffy's hands have slid down to her hips, and one of them beyond, down over the curve of Aisha's ass, to her thighs, and Aisha can't keep her hands still. She learns Buffy's body through feel, creates a map of soft skin over sharp bones, and notes that there are muscles in it far harder than they look like they should be.

But that's just part of the process, the one where they laugh into each other's mouths and brush the hair -- strands of it have come loose and hang in their faces, plastered with sweat and seawater to their skin -- out of the way of the kisses they press against each other's skin. Aisha has never cared for rendezvous on the beach, mostly for the irritation the sand poses both during and after, but in the water is another story, and it's a rare thing that she finds someone who can do their part to keep them afloat.

The ocean bobs and the tide swells and all the world is trying to tear them away from the shore, but they fight, and keep fighting, shining with moon and water. The sea is warm as the blood in their veins and in these moments she could almost, _almost_ think that between the two of them, they might be currents of their own.


End file.
